Never Ending New Changes
by Cascade Fantasy
Summary: After spending two years abroad in Europe, Mac suddenly decides to return to Foster's. Bloo is excited to be able to see him again, but he's in for a pint-sized surprise! With Mac now back in the house, will Bloo be able to prove his worth to him and fix their relationship? Or will Mac run away again?
1. Prologue: Out of My Mind

_**Author's Note**_

_So, here it is: the sequel to "Is This Never Ending." For those of you who have read these stories before, you know that this is boy x boy, and if you don't like it, then don't waste your time reading it please. This story also contains mpreg, which we all very well know is impossible, but this is Fanfiction, so keep that in mind as you're reading that I know exactly how strange this all is. XD I hope that you guys will enjoy the story and read and review when you have finished. Thanks for taking the time to look at this!_

_And I do NOT own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, or any of its characters. _

**Prologue**

Mac stood in the break room with the other members of the crew. He held in his grasp what was his third glass of water that day since he had been so bored. In the corner, Nic Dawson stood, and he was hurriedly emailing people using his phone. Mac sighed heavily and gave a nod to one of the cameramen that were passing by.

His friends, Denise and Reggy, were finishing up an interview with a reporter. Mac hadn't been doing any interviews since he had broken up with Bloo. For the most part, he tagged along for support. The campaign for F-H Sexuals had really been picking up the pace ever since they took it abroad.

It had been a while now since Mac had abandoned what he left back in America: his family, his job, his apartment, and most importantly, Bloo. Their breakup hadn't been the worst, because it was a mutual decision by the two of them, but it still left an ache in his heart.

Mac leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He had been feeling pretty tired lately, but that was most likely from the fact that he had been going out and staying late every night, then waking up really early in the morning to head out.

England was a pretty cool place to be though. On their days off, they had gone to see some major tourist attractions. They had passed by Buckingham Palace, walked through the British Museum and National Gallery, and had ridden to the top of the London Eye. Everything was gorgeous and completely unforgettable… but Mac regretted not being able to share it with somebody he loved. Bloo might not have loved it as much as he did, but at least he would have been there.

As soon as the interview had ended, they headed back "home" to their hotel room after quickly grabbing a bite from a local eatery. Mac stopped and picked up some extra snacks for later on tonight—roughly three bags of chips.

Genietta, who was a worm like imaginary friend with luxurious long red hair and a pair of oversized black glasses, laid stretched out on one of the beds, while Issac was reading a book in the corner. Issac and Genietta were practically mirror images of each other: same clothing choices, same red hair, same glasses.

Denise let out a relieved sigh as she flopped down onto her bed, removing her heels off of her feet and rubbing them.

"Ahh, I don't know why I even wore these shoes!" she cried out. "They hurt my feet so bad…!"

"They look sexy on you, baby," Reggy said as he headed into the restroom.

Denise smiled. "Well thank you doll, but I think I'll opt for some tennis shoes tomorrow if we're not doing an interview."

Nic shook his head. "We are."

"Shoot," she grumbled, flopping down on the bed.

Mac ripped open one of the chip bags and started idly munching on some of the chips. Denise laughed.

"Mac, we just ate," she half protested, half teased. "Why don't you slow down a little bit?"

"I'm still kind of hungry," Mac answered with a shrug.

"Oh baby, I wouldn't be eating like that. You know if you're depressed and you eat, you gain a lot more weight?"

Mac shot her a look. "I'm not depressed."

Denise said nothing more, but just continued to smile. Mac headed over to the mini fridge that they kept and stowed the chips inside rather huffily, and withdrew a bottle of water to drink. He guzzled it down.

"There, zero calories," Mac said, glaring. "Happy?"

"Chill out, man," Issac said in his strangely deep yet nasally voice. He put the bookmark in between two pages. "Don't get your boxers in a bunch."

Mac rolled his eyes and flopped down on his own bed which was off in the corner. He felt bad for being so crabby, but he couldn't help it.  
That night he ate the whole bag of chips in his emotional confusion and then went to bed early. He pulled the covers up over his head and tried to sleep while the others played cards and kept the TV on at a low volume.

His dreams were riddled with memories of Bloo and his mind circulated back to the old hopes for the future that he had once had. A house… a better job… a couple of kids… the kind of cookie cutter American lifestyle that he had always wanted to have… they brought him into a deep sleep that had he been mostly conscious, he would have wanted to stay in forever.

As the weeks progressed, Mac continued his sort of moping attitude, not really engaging himself in anything, but when he was urged to, playing along just so to not worry the others. The other two couples covered interview after interview, and on the weekends, they would visit other clusters of F-Hs that had gathered in various areas of the United Kingdom and would extend their support and expand their network.

Mac found himself gaining weight from the excessive eating that he had been doing. He woke up in the mornings and found that his stomach hung out awkwardly over his pants, but that didn't mean he wanted to stop eating all of those things like chips. He had a major craving for sugar, but he avoided it so as not to make himself crazy, and in turn his abstinence made him crabby.

His friends' concern for him quickly went away when they started to see that Mac was starting to return to normal, just a little moody here and there, and oddly hungrier. Some of them even poked at his weight.

"You look so weird," Denise said one day with a giggle. "Everywhere else you're pretty skinny, and then here…" she motioned over his stomach, "all your excess weight is going there. You're like, pregnant."

"Hardy har har." Mac rolled his eyes and tried to pull down his shirt over his stomach a little more. "Pregnant women don't gain weight this quickly."

Issac, who had been reading a book as he usually did, looked up and blinked. "Actually, it is kind of weird that your body weight is all focusing there. I thought that all that eating was because of your breakup with Bloo… but that was three months ago."

"I'm not obsessed over that anymore," Mac protested, crossing his arms.

"Exactly. But you're still feeling hungry?"

Mac nodded.

"But you've been sick in the mornings too."

Everyone in the room now turned to look at Mac with completely perplexed and slightly awe struck looks on their faces. Mac's eyes darted around at his friends. He laughed nervously.

"Oh come on, you guys. I've been feeling a little bit under the weather… Nothing's been going on."

"Mac," Issac announced, "I think that you should go and see a doctor."

Mac's eyes narrowed. "You're being ridiculous. You all are right now."

Denise rubbed her arm, biting her lip. "It is… kind of odd, isn't it?"

"I'm probably just sick. Look, if it really bugs you to have a fatty traveling with you, I'll go out jogging in the mornings."

"Moodiness," Genietta noted, her glasses sliding down her flat face a little bit.

Mac threw his hands up in the air. "You're nuts! I'm fine, okay?"

His friends stared back at him. Issac smirked.

"Prove it."

Mac opened his mouth, and then clamped it shut. He narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, fine. I'll prove it."

Mac sat in the doctor's office, wearing one of those gaudy God awful hospital gowns, on one of those seriously uncomfortable beds with paper drifted across the surface. He bit his lip and twiddled his thumbs. He had managed to schedule an appointment the day after the conversation with his friends, and they all accompanied him.

Just then the door opened and in walked a thin female doctor with a blond ponytail. She looked up from her clipboard and smiled.

"Hello, Mac. I'm Stephanie Crawson," she said, outstretching her hand. He shook it. "So… what are you here for exactly?"

"Well…" Mac laughed, meek. "This is awkward… um, so lately… well for the past three months… I've been eating excessively, have been kind of moody, and just for a little bit I've been getting sick in the mornings. My friends think I'm… pr…um…"

Dr. Crawson tilted her head to one side, not understanding. But then again, how could she? What he was about to ask her was completely ridiculous.

"My friends think I'm pregnant. But that's not possible," Mac said, biting his lip. "Right?"

"Well…" she reached out and felt his stomach, and frowned. "Hmm…"

She stood back and placed her hands on her hips, directly above the pockets of her crisp white lab coat. "You want to do an ultrasound?"

Mac swallowed. "Okay. I guess."

"Your stomach does look a little… odd," Stephanie admitted. "It's probably just some sort of abnormal growth, if anything. Or maybe nothing. But you want to prove it to your friends…"

"Yeah. A picture would definitely prove it to them."

Mac allowed Stephanie to lead him down the hallway into a windowless room. He laid down on a bed, and he pulled up his gown to uncover his stomach. Dr. Crawson applied some gel, and using the application for the ultrasound screening device, smoothed it over his stomach. She then flicked the machine on and let it boot up.

"Okay…" she murmured, moving the stick around.

Mac tried to turn his head to look at the screen but couldn't really see it clearly. He saw Crawson's brow furrow, as if in deep concentration. Her mouth parted slightly, and she closed it, shaking her head.

"Um… okay… This is strange…" She reached over and fiddled with some controls. "I… um…"

Mac heard this odd _thump-thump-thump _noise echo out from the machine. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

"Oh God. Tell me…"

"It's…"

She moved the stick up, to a heartbeat with a different pace. Then she moved it back down. Two different heartbeats.

Her mouth hanging open, she nodded.

"You." she moved it up. "Baby." She moved it down. "You." the stick slivered back up his body, retracing its path.

"I get it!" Mac clenched his jaw.

Stephanie switched a few buttons and then turned off of the machine and Mac pulled his gown back down to his knees. She bit her lip and drummed her hands across the tops of her thighs.

"You're that man that was in love with his imaginary friend weren't you?"

"Yes. We broke up three months ago."

Stephanie crossed her arms. "Okay, well let's think about this… biologically. Based off of the size of the fetus from what I could see, you're three months along. Did you have sex with him three months ago?"

Mac's mind wandered back, filtering through his memories. A sad look crossed his face as he had remembered the last time they made love, a week before their break up. He sat up, and nodded slowly, emotionless.

"Well… maybe that contributed to it?" she suggested. "But that doesn't make sense, since you're… um… a man. And he's a man too… And on top of that, he's an imaginary friend… so I doubt that you two could have…"

"Crossed species like that?"

"Pretty much, yes." She sighed heavily. " And uh… you're both men; that's not supposed to be biologically possible. Wow. This is confusing. Um… here, Mac…" she passed him something that came out of the machine. It was a picture of the fetus, a dark black shadow suspended against the harsh gray background.

She pointed to a line connected to the figure. "That's the umbilical cord. The baby appears to be concealed in a sac that your body produced somehow. The sac is serving as a substitute for a uterus. That's just what I can make out. That's how the baby is alive. 'Course, you know, without surgical removal, I can't know." She rolled over to a desk and hastily squirted green antibacterial gel onto her hands. She rubbed her hands together wickedly fast. "A baby can't survive without some certain things…"

Mac peered at the picture suspiciously. It looked like a normal human baby, from what he could tell. But then again, what the hell did he know about babies? He figured he was a part of the gender that created kids, not the gender that had the daunting task of carrying them. Somewhere along the line, he had gotten screwed over where he wasn't supposed to.

"That's your baby," she murmured, looking at the picture closely from the other side. "Mac… I know that a lot of things must be going through your head right now. I don't even know how this could have happened. I'm going to do some research, call up some of my colleagues, and call you back in here tomorrow."

She got up, cleaning up her work station, and then Mac stood up as well.

"What should I do?"

Stephanie glanced back over towards him. Mac seemed frustrated, his face contorted in confusion and slight anger.

"Excuse me?"

"Should I… Should I get rid of it?" he asked her.

"I think that's up to you. I could perform an abortion, if you like," she suggested openly. "I'm still going to do what I said I would do, however."

Mac nodded, biting his lip. He had broken up with Bloo. He thought that he wouldn't associate with him again, or at least for a long time. What was he supposed to do now? Call him up and tell him?

With an arm reassuringly placed across his shoulders, Dr. Crawson led Mac all the way back to the waiting room. Reggy was flipping through a magazine while Denise filed her nails, and as usual the bookworms were reading, and Nic was going through things on his phone. All at once, their heads rose to look up at Mac.

Mac nervously smiled and held up a photo. "Come take a look."

Nic was the first to get up and walk over. He peered at the photo.

"Holy crap." He whispered.

The others thundered over and gathered around, staring at the photo.

"So I was right?" Issac blinked in disbelief.

"Yes," Mac said in a harsh, quiet voice. "You were right."

Denise gave him a pitying look. Mac stood there, feeling sort of numb for some odd reason. Genietta and Denise clustered by him, not saying anything or touching at him, but remaining focused on him. Nic was busy discussing things with the doctor. After they made an appointment for tomorrow at the same time, they all left and walked the long way back to the apartment.

Mac had his hands shoved in his pockets and had his eyes focused on the pavement and the tips of his shoes as he walked along. When they entered the apartment he went over and sat down on the bed, facing the window. He clasped his hands together and silently watched the world outside.

He thought about Bloo. Thought about his smile, the color of his skin, the way he walked, talked, the way he kissed him and held him… and he felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He pressed his wrists to his eyes, trying to force the tears back, but he couldn't. Silently the tears trickled down his cheeks.

"Oh, baby," Denise whispered, coming over and hugging him. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart. It's going to be okay…"

Mac shook his head. "It's not going to be okay." He looked at her. "I can't go back to him, Denise. And I can't tell him. I just can't."

"You don't have to," she murmured to him, removing a paper napkin from her purse. She wiped at the streams of tears. "You don't, sweetie. We can make this work."

Mac felt the warmth of his friends surround him, in an overwhelming hug, filling him up with their love and support. A glimmer of hope seemed to linger now.

The next day, when Mac was led down the hallway by a nurse, he was in a larger examination room, and more doctors were present (about three), along with Dr. Crawson. When Mac entered, their heads all automatically turned sharply to look at him. Mac felt like he was in one of those nightmares where he stood naked in front of his entire graduating class, except that dream was less humiliating. _This _was an all time record setter for the most embarrassing situation.

"Hello, Mac." Dr. Crawson stepped forward. "One of my associates… this is Dr. Rivers. He's an expert in mental health, and he also specializes in taking care of imaginary friends. He thinks he knows a cause behind your condition."

Dr. Rivers was an old man that looked like he might have been slightly senile. He had thinning and unkempt white hair on his head and for sideburns, accompanied with a goatee. His small glasses perched perfectly on his crooked nose. In his grasp, he carried a rather thick book.

"There have actually been two other cases reported, Mr. Evans," he boomed, his loud voice startling the others. "Here…"

He opened the book and touched his tongue to his thumb and vigorously flipped through the pages. He searched through for a moment, and then passed the book back over to Mac. Mac took the heavy book and peered down at the pages.

"A case was reported in Switzerland in 1805," he told him. "A troubled young man had fallen in love with his imaginary friend that he had created. When he was around the age of sixteen, he had nonconsensual intercourse with this friend, and managed to impregnate her. A doctor had questioned him about how this had been possible, and he had responded that he had 'imagined' it to happen.

"Another case occurred later, in 1935 in Russia, except the roles were reversed: the woman was impregnated by the imaginary friend. Intercourse was reported, and also, the process of imagining it."

Mac blinked. "But… But I didn't imagine for a baby to happen."

Dr. Rivers cocked his head to one side and frowned. "Well you must have imagined something relatively close to that. That's the only way that this could have happened. Biological isn't enough. It needs an overactive imagination in addition to this." he crossed his arms.

Mac shook his head, returning the book to the doctor. "No. I grew up a pretty normal kid. Bloo wasn't that imaginative. He's a blob, for goodness sake."

The doctor pursed his lips. "Well, have you noticed anything odd about your imaginary friend?"

"Bloo? No. I mean, other than his personality…"

Dr. Crawson stepped forward. "I think that I can explain, Mac." She cleared her throat. "Signs of an overactive imagination are pretty obvious once you know about them. If you possess an overactive imagination, that doesn't necessarily mean that you come up with the craziest friends that you can find, or produce multiple imaginary friends.

"If your imaginary friend happens to have a complex personality, or some types of physical or mental disorders that generally apply to humans, such as autism; can add on appendages or traits after their creation, or even growth in an imaginary friend after creation means that its creator has an overactive imagination."

Mac gasped slightly, his mind flipping far back, close to four years ago, when he and Bloo had been in that store on his campus… He had thought that Bloo looked oddly as tall as him. And Bloo's personality did seem a tad bit too varying since Mac had created him at the age of three.

Mac's hopes for the future must have somehow interfered. That was the only time he could think of when he had thoughts that resembled a "baby."

"W-wow. I… I guess I must have imagined it."

Dr. Rivers nodded, smiling sadly. "I'm afraid so." He crossed his arms. "Of course, we don't know for certain yet, since this is an incredibly rare occurrence. But based off of the evidence…" his fingers drummed against the book. "Well, that's all that I can think of."

The room fell silent for a moment. Then Dr. Crawson spoke up.

"Mac. Did you say that you wanted to abort the child?"

"I…" Mac bit his lip. "I don't think I do. Unless it's going to cause permanent damage or kill me, I don't…"

"It could cause damage to your organs," Crawson admitted. "But we could fix that. We can figure out a way around all of the most confusing parts. That sac that the baby is in should hold for a few months till we can figure it out."

"Are you going to make me give birth?"

Crawson laughed and shook her head. "No. There's no possible way for you to give birth. We'll have to perform… a C section I suppose, to remove the child and transfer it into something."

She gestured with a sweep of her arm to another man, who appeared to be of some sort of Russian descent.

"This is Dr. Krostnov," she said. "He specializes in artificial births—in vitro, cloning. If you want to keep the child, he's the one that's going to figure out how to grow it."

Mac looked around at them. "Then… how much time do I have?"

"Three more months maximum," Dr. Rivers answered sternly.

_Six months along… _Mac thought, swallowing at the image of him in his head with an even larger stomach than he had now.

"You are sure you don't want an abortion?"

"No, I do not," Mac stated firmly.

He couldn't believe he had said it… but when he was the third case ever in recorded history to have something like this happen, it was hard to say, "No."

All at once the doctors began talking hurriedly, excessively, using vocabulary that Mac didn't understand. He leaned back against the wall, his hands shoved in the pockets of his pants, and he waited patiently for them to finish.

When they had, Crawson walked him down the hallway and talked about what books he should buy in order to assure a healthy pregnancy and other basics. She handed Mac several pamphlets and told him to take them, and then told him that she would be contacting him very soon to make another appointment.

Mac went home that night feeling incredibly exhausted. He used the restroom a couple of times and flopped down on his bed.

_It's hard now. It's probably not going to get better, _he thought, closing his eyes. _It's just going to get harder… But… I think it'll be worth it. _

The next three months were filled with even more appointments, a couple of surgeries, and generally just a lot of running around. Rushing from interview to appointment, Mac exhausted himself rather quickly. Shopping was a pain as well, and then there were all those books that Mac had to read. All the while he grew bigger in the stomach, and slightly bigger in the feet as well. He sometimes woke up feeling like a balloon.

The media didn't find out about Mac's pregnancy because he wasn't the one in the limelight anymore, and no one released the information to the press. Mac was stressed enough as it was. He didn't need interviews begging for a quote or reporters shoving a microphone in his face.

Some days were better, other days were worse. Mac found a lot of days were just in between, but the anxiety that had come with originally finding out about this had slowly receded to the back of his mind.

A couple of days before his final surgery to remove the baby, Mac was laying in bed, reading a book while the others watched TV. Mac, with a small smile, finished the last page and then with a yawn, set it on the nightstand and snuggled down underneath the covers of his bed.

He didn't think about Bloo as much anymore, even though he probably should have, considering that Bloo was the baby's father. He just didn't want to talk to him about it. He figured that he would have to someday, but not right now. There were too many things on his plate right now to worry about Bloo's reaction.

Then Mac felt it suddenly. A sharp jolt that inflicted a little pain. It hit the wall of his stomach, paused, and then rebounded.

"G-guys!" he cried out softly. He placed a hand over his stomach. "Uh, I think something's happening!"

"Oh God, don't tell me your water broke," Denise mumbled, instantly rushing over.

Mac rolled his eyes. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his stomach. They waited a moment, and then they felt the kick again.

"Feel that?" he murmured, eyes glimmering. "That's the baby."

"That thing is really alive, huh," Nic chuckled, gingerly touching Mac's stomach as well. "Hi, little guy."

"You think it's going to be a boy?"

"I'd bet a lot of money on it," Nic responded, grinning.

Mac smiled warmly. This was the first time, oddly enough, that he had felt connected to the child. And for the first time…

He actually accepted that he was going to be a dad.


	2. Chapter One: Why Does He Have My Name?

**Chapter One**

Bloo woke up that morning the same as he had woken up on all the other previous mornings for the past two years. He was groggy, tired, and sort of miserable, but nowadays when he got up, he could shake all the misery off of his shoulders and push it to a corner of the room.

He yawned, stretched, slid slowly out of bed and instantly made his way downstairs to the dining hall. On the ends of the table there were cereal boxes set down half heartedly. Ever since Frankie had married Vince, a nerdy-computer-tech-turned-hot-computer-tech, she had been slacking some in her work. But then again, the slacking of her housework only increased the amount of time that she needed to devote to her grandmother. Madame Foster was incredibly elderly these days, and she wasn't getting any better. She wasn't dying any faster either.

Wilt was already at the dining table eating with Eduardo. Coco had still been adopted and they still received postcards from her from time to time. It at first had been weird—Bloo had half expected Mac to show up the next day that he had moved back in and visit him, but Mac hadn't cared. While the agreement between Madame Foster and Mac was now void, Mr. Herriman hadn't particularly pushed to have Bloo adopted. He recognized now that Bloo was in a sort of fragile, emptied state: he didn't really have the energy to give to another kid anymore. Mac had been his kid, and Bloo had loved Mac.

For a long time, Bloo had mentally beaten himself up over losing Mac.

_I should have just said it. I love you. I'm sorry. But I didn't, and that's why I'm here. _

Bloo poured himself a bowl of cereal and then sat down at the dining table in between Eduardo and Wilt.

"Morning, Bloo," Wilt said cheerfully.

"Eh," Bloo grumbled back, shoving a spoonful of Coco Puffs in his mouth.

He chewed noisily, swallowed, and then downed it with orange juice that had formerly been Eduardo's. Eduardo glared, stood up, and then marched into the kitchen to get another glass. Wilt sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"Where's Frankie?" Bloo asked.

"Frankie? I think she's on the phone in Mr. Herriman's office," Wilt murmured. "She was kind of excited. Must've been an old friend of hers."

Bloo rolled his eyes and then gulped down some of the milk that was in his bowl. He continued scooping up Coco Puffs and munching on them.

"Bloo!"

He jerked his head to the left, where he saw Frankie standing in the doorway of the dining hall. Her face looked red, she had a faint smile on her face, and her hands were on her hips.

"Bloo, there's someone on the phone for you."

Bloo blinked. He knew instantly who it was. He got up, and sped into Mr. Herriman's office.

The tall, sharply dressed rabbit was facing the window, his hand grasping the top of the chair, the other holding onto the phone.

"…Yes, yes, that should be fine. We can have a room for you by tonight, no problem whatsoever…"

"Is that Mac?" Bloo cried out. "Let me talk to him!"

"Master Blooregard," Mr. Herriman began warningly, "I am in the middle of an important conversation—"

"—Oh shut up and give it here you old rabbit!" Bloo snapped, snatching the phone out of his grasp.

He pressed the phone against his face, and he couldn't hear anything.

"…Hey Bloo."

"Mac!" Bloo cried out, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Mac…!"

He sat down on top of the desk, not believing what he was hearing… He hadn't heard his voice for two years… he hadn't seen his face… hadn't felt his touch…

"Yeah, it's me. I'm um… I'm coming back to the states."

"You're coming back?! Here? To Foster's?! When?"

Mac laughed softly. "I'm coming back tonight. Got a late flight."

"By yourself o-or—"

"—Not by myself, no, but not with our friends either." Mac cleared his throat and then said sternly, "Listen Bloo. There's something that I have to talk to you about when I get here. I'll be waiting for you and the others at the airport tonight…"

Bloo didn't even have time to say something else, because a loud noise rattled up in the background, and Mac quickly said that he had to go. Bloo still had the phone close to his face long after he had hung up, and the annoying beeping sound was echoing into the office.

Mr. Herriman, his face speckled white with age, took the phone from Bloo and set it in the receiver. He said something about Bloo having a lack of manners, and then sat down at his desk and busied himself with paperwork.

"Mac's coming home?"

"Yes. Until he can find a job and an apartment of his own," Mr. Herriman replied. "I said that we would be happy to house him."

"Even after…"

Mr. Herriman eyed Bloo through his monocle, addressing him on a professional, unemotional level. "Regardless of what happened between you and Master Mac, he is still a long time member of this house, and he is considered family."

"What?" Bloo snorted, incredulous. "What do you mean, 'family?' He hasn't talked to any of us for two years!"

"Master Mac and I have conversed every Sunday in some manner since his departure."

"Just you and Mac?! Why didn't I know about this?"

Mr. Herriman sighed deeply. "It was none of your concern, Master Blooregard. Now, if you excuse me, I am quite busy. I have to prepare for the arrival of Master Mac."

"Who's the other person that's coming home with him?" Bloo demanded. "Has he got a new boyfriend or something?"

"I sincerely doubt that due to his situation—"

"—_What situation?!" _Bloo cried out, on edge.

"Bloo!" he heard Frankie shouting from the dining hall. "Bloo, you left your stupid cereal bowl sitting here on the table!"

Bloo threw his arms up in the air and let out an aggravated scream as he rushed back into the dining hall. Vince, Frankie's husband, blinked from where he stood at the other end wiping down the table.

"Jeez, Bloo, chill out," Vince mumbled, rolling his eyes. After being married to Frankie for a year, he had actually gotten used to Bloo's antics.

Bloo picked up his dishes and carried them into the kitchen, where Frankie stood at the industrial sized sink. The sink had been filled up halfway with hot, soapy water and dishes lurked beneath the surface. A tentacle ridden, green elephant-trunked friend was standing by her and assisting her.

"Mac's coming home," Bloo announced to her, as if she didn't know this already.

"Yeah, I know," Frankie said quietly.

"Didn't you and him get into a fight a few years ago? Why are you so lucky to have him back?"

Frankie smiled tightly, closing her eyes for a brief moment before they flashed open. She continued scrubbing at the dishes. "I guess I've missed him. And you've missed him too, obviously."

"I haven't _missed _him that much," Bloo growled.

"Sure you have," Frankie answered. "You'll realize it when you see him again."

Bloo shook his head, but deep down, he knew that she was probably right.

At that night, around nine thirty, Frankie, along with Wilt and Eduardo and Bloo, drove up to the airport. Frankie stayed in the pick-up area, while Bloo and the others headed inside towards the baggage claim.

"What time does his flight get in?" Bloo asked as they watched other passengers grab their things off the conveyor belt.

"Around nine thirty five," Wilt answered, and then he shrugged. "Maybe his flight is delayed."

"How long do I have to wait?" Bloo grumbled underneath his breath, plopping himself down onto a cushioned bench.

Eduardo was eagerly hopping up and down on the balls of his feet. His weight made the bus quake a little from where it stood. "Ooh, Wilt, can we please go and see him at his gate?"

"Okay, we can try…"

The three of them headed down towards where Mac's gate was located. Throngs of people were moving all around them, trying to hustle to the baggage claim or their flight. Wilt was tall, so he wasn't lost as easily, but Bloo and bulky Eduardo had their problems trying to see past person after person.

They finally came to a set of stairs that the people from Mac's flight would descent from. They waited anxiously at the bottom of it, staring up expectantly. It took about five minutes before people actually starting to descent the stairs.

Bloo's heartbeat picked up its pace, and his eyes watched carefully, scanning for that familiar head of brown hair, and he finally saw him. He smiled, knowing that was him, and attempted to approach, but then he heard Mac's voice.

"…Why do you have to fuss with me? I gave you a snack on the plane," Mac was grumbling.

Everyone's jaw dropped when they saw Mac reach the bottom of the stairs. Everything about him, after a quick glance, had remained normal. The problem was the little two year old baby with blue skin and shaggy brown hair that was balanced on his hip.

Mac gave everyone a shy, yet radiant smile. "Hey guys."

He bounced the baby a little and looked at him sternly. "Say hi, Junior."

The baby that was called "Junior" tilted his head towards the group and blinked, startled, and then ducked his head against Mac's shoulder with a grin. Mac rolled his eyes, but Wilt laughed and smiled.

"Aw, who is this little guy? He's so cute!" Wilt praised, slowly approaching Mac.

"This is…" Mac quickly looked over at Bloo and then avoided eye contact. "Um, his name is just 'Junior' for now, okay, Wilt? I'll explain later."

Wilt then outstretched his spindly arms, and gestured for Mac to pass over the baby to him. Mac smiled, and did so willingly, and then went forward to accept a hug from Eduardo. Bloo stood there, his eyes narrowed, watching the small child that Wilt now carried.

That child was most definitely not human. So who was he, and why the hell did Mac have him? Bloo followed closely behind Mac, who was leading the group over towards the baggage claim.

"Who is that little brat?"

Mac glared. "Hey, Bloo, nice to see you again too."

"Yeah, yeah, that's great—_Who is he?_"

Mac crossed his arms as he stood there at the conveyor belt, watching the other bags of luggage circle around at lumbering speeds.

"He's my son," Mac answered with a sharp tongue, reaching out and grabbing his bag.

Eduardo stopped, confused. "_Que_? He es your son, Senor Mac?"

"Yes, Ed, that's my son," Mac said, exhaling as he turned to face them all. "I was planning on waiting till we were in a more suitable environment, like back home, for me to tell you… but that is my son, and his name is Blooregard Q. Evans-Kazoo Junior."

Everyone gaped, and Bloo gasped in shock. Mac took this all in coolly.

"Yeah, I know, you're all shocked—I had a kid, look, it wasn't any of my intention, but he happened, so now I'm taking care of him." Mac walked up to Wilt. "I'll take him back now, if you want Wilt."

"Oh, no, that's okay," Wilt protested, smiling reassuringly. "Unless you want me to carry your bags."

"Yeah, that would be great, thank you," Mac said, and he exchanged the heavy duffel bags for the baby.

Junior whimpered slightly in protest but Mac ignored him, and they proceeded to head outside towards where the psychedelic bus was waiting to take them home.

"Hey, Frankie," Mac said, climbing up the steps of the bus.

Frankie blinked, seeing the kid, and opened her mouth to say something, but shook her head and just waited for the others to climb onto the bus.

"I've got other stuff coming, but that's just the majority of what I own. And this backpack." Mac shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders, the same one that he had had for years, and set it on the seat beside him.

He set Junior on his lap and fished around in the backpack. "Here, I think I've got something for you to eat, sweetheart…"

"Wanna sleep," Junior mumbled wearily, and he yawned squeakily.

Eduardo plopped down in the seat across from them and watched them intently. Junior cast a wary eye in Eduardo's direction and he stuck out his tongue. Eduardo frowned. Mac glanced over and saw what Junior was doing.

"That's not nice; say you're sorry," Mac scolded him gently.

"He scary."

"I know, but Eduardo is a really nice guy," Mac said, smiling. "I thought that too when I first met him."

Junior mumbled his apology and then closed his eyes, leaned against Mac and attempted to get some sleep. Frankie pulled out of the pick up lane and headed back on the highway for home. Bloo sat in front of Mac, and looked over this baby boy very closely, carefully.

"Why does he have my name, Mac?"

"Bloo. Can we please not do this here?" Mac whispered. "I know, I know that you're confused and most likely upset… but it's late and he's really tired and I don't want to get into an argument."

"You should've thought about that before you had him."

Mac narrowed his eyes. "Well, actually, that was for the most part your fault, but whatever."

Mac then reached into his bag again and pulled out a white paper bag that jingled, filled with something.

"I brought you guys some souvenirs. I always bought a key chain whenever we went to a different location. So look inside and take your pick," Mac said, passing the bag to Wilt.

Wilt took a keychain and then passed the bag to Eduardo.

"Holy moly, there must be twenty of them in here, Mac," Eduardo commented.

"Well, we went a lot of places in the past two years."

Bloo cleared his throat and Mac turned his attention back to him.

"So where are the others?"

"Still touring around Europe. It's just hard to tour Europe when you have a two year old, so I finally decided that I should just come home." he laughed nervously. "Let me tell you, I thought it was hard enough when he was a newborn, but was I proven wrong…"

The rest of the ride back was relatively awkward and kind of silent, but when they got back to Foster's, Mac gasped at the arrangement that was outside of the house. Hanging over the doors was a "Welcome Home" banner, and a couple of balloons were tied down on the porch.

"Wow, that's really nice of you guys," Mac murmured, picking up Junior as they all exited the bus.

When they walked in through the doors, there was an assortment of friends standing in the foyer, and at the lead was Mr. Herriman and Madame Foster, along with Vince. Madame Foster cracked a smile against her wrinkly face. She leaned forward from where she sat in her wheel chair as the cheers rose up.

"Let me see you, sonny," she ordered, and Mac obliged, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"This is Junior, I'm sure that Mr. Herriman has—"

"—Yes, yes, I know all about him." Madame Foster took the baby and set him on her lap. She hooted that odd little laugh of hers and exchanged hellos.

Mac then went around talked with all of the old imaginary friends that he had known from when he was a kid: Jackie Khones, Flutter Nutter, Bloppypants… They were all there waiting for him and eager to talk.

"Are you back to the United States for sure this time, Master Mac?" Mr. Herriman then asked over the din of loud voices.

Mac turned and spread his arms wide, nodding. He gave a big grin. "I don't think that I can leave again, and I don't think I want to."

Some friends then clamored around him for a group hug. Bloo, who had been standing by Madame Foster, was now staring down the small child intensely.

"Here, Bloo," she told him, setting him in his arms.

A brief look of disgust and contempt crossed Bloo's face when he took Junior. The child tilted his head back to look at Bloo, and inserted its thumb into its mouth. Bloo gazed in wonder at how the child looked so eerily similar to him, and shared some resemblances to Mac. The same shade of brown hair, the skin tone that was just a few shades lighter than Bloo's. He also had Bloo's pitch black eyes that conveyed emotion in more ways than one.

Bloo gulped worriedly. The other friends in the room were beginning to disperse, and now they were going up to the bedroom that Bloo shared with the others.

"Mr. Herriman said that he thought there was a room available, but there turned out not to be," Wilt said, "so we're just going to share, okay?"

"That sounds alright… as long as you don't mind Junior," Mac mumbled, hauling both of his bags.

Bloo continued to carry Junior all the way back to the room. Once there, he set the baby on a cot in the corner that Frankie had prepared for him.

"Does the baby need a crib?"

"He won't soon," Mac murmured. "He can sleep in the same bed with me tonight, it won't be a big deal."

He set his things down by the bed and turned to face the other three. His eyes took on a more concerned look.

"I need to speak to Bloo. Alone," he said quietly.

Wilt and Eduardo nodded and obediently exited the room, closing the door to give them privacy. Bloo sat beside Junior on the cot, watching as he grabbed fistfuls of blankets and tried to shove them into his mouth. Mac gently pulled the blankets away from Junior and smoothed them back down on the bed.

"So?" Mac glanced up.

"So what? _You_ were the one that said you needed to talk to me."

Mac sighed heavily. "What do you think about all of this?"

"I think that you're pretty damn… what's that word… ambitis…"

"Ambitious?"

"Right. I think that you're pretty damn ambitious—"

"—Don't curse around him. He may be two but that doesn't mean he can't talk."

Bloo huffed, "Fine. I think you're pretty _dang _ambitious to imagine up another friend at your age and give him my name."

Mac shook his head. "I didn't just imagine him. I conceived him… we did, technically."

"What the—" Bloo halted and continued, "_H _are you talking about? You're saying that you got pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Uh uh. I know that that's not possible. I read your sixth grade health class homework, Mac. I even giggled at the vocab."

"It happened because I missed you," Mac whispered, his eyes sad.

"What do you mean?"

"I…" he rubbed his arm self consciously. "I had… been thinking about the future, of you and us, and somewhere along the line, my imagination got pretty out of control and I thought up Junior… and then considering what happened before I left…" Mac rolled his eyes. "You know… we made a baby."

"You mean you _imagined _a baby."

"I didn't imagine everything about him!" Mac protested, narrowing his eyes. "He's got genetics, which is something that regular imaginary friends do not have. We even ran tests when he was born… he has two parents biologically connected to him. You and me."

Bloo shook his head vigorously. "No, Mac, that's not possible."

"Bloo, I was there," Mac bleated weakly. "He's your son! He's our son."

"No he's not," Bloo huffed, crossing his arms. He stood up and marched over to the opposite end of the room. "I don't have anything to do with you anymore, remember? We broke up. I'm off the hook."

Mac looked a little tearful, but he just blinked away the tears and nodded. "Okay. I knew that you would probably react like this. I just wanted you to know the truth."

Bloo plopped down onto his bed and then propped himself up against the pillow. Wilt and Eduardo then slowly crept in, and Mac was starting to get ready for bed. Bloo half heartedly watched as Mac put on his pajamas and changed Junior into an onesie.

Mac. He had dreamed of meeting him again. Now he had… and he was worried that he was falling for him all over again.


	3. Chapter Two: Kids And Candy

_Author's Note:_

_I've decided that every few days or so I'll post two chapters at a time. Sorry if this makes it a little more difficult for people to keep up with. XD Thanks for reading! Please review! _

**Chapter Two**

The next two days passed by rather awkwardly. Mac was no longer that sweet kid that would talk to everybody—he was now almost being consumed by having to take care of Junior. Junior was a brat, Bloo had noticed, but Mac also kind of smothered him at times.

"Junior," Mac sighed tiredly that Saturday morning, "could you just _please _eat your cereal?"

Junior examined the five pieces of oat cereal that he had removed from the bowl of cereal. Each one was dribbling with milk on the high chair's table. Junior picked up one piece and offered it to Mac, who shook his head. Mac opened his mouth and pointed at it, then pointed to Junior.

"Eat it."

Junior took the pieces and munched them, then started to focus on his cereal. Bloo watched, trying not to seem too interested. The two year old obviously wasn't enjoying the cereal. The baby set his spoon back in the bowl and refused to eat anymore. Mac groaned, his head flopping forward onto the table. Junior giggled.

Mac picked up the bowl and Junior's dishes and took them to the kitchen. Junior turned his head and laughed when he saw Bloo.

"Boo!"

Bloo's eyes narrowed. "My name is Bloo."

"Boo!" Junior pressed his hands to his face and then flung them far apart, giggling hysterically.

Bloo threw his hands up in the air. Junior mimicked him. Bloo stuck his tongue out and made a nasty face, and Junior returned the look. Bloo was taken aback, and Junior laughed loudly, banging his little feet from where he sat in his chair. Bloo couldn't help but crack a smile as well, and he continued to make funny faces that made him laugh and giggle.

Mac came back, and he saw the scene that was occurring. He gave Bloo a sort of shy but warm smile as he lifted Junior out of his high chair.

"You two are playing?" Mac asked, bouncing Junior a little bit.

"Uh huh," Junior said, nodding, his eyes watching his other father curiously.

Bloo's smile vanished. "Uh, no."

"Really? It sure looked to me like you were playing," Mac said with a knowing smile and an arch of his brow.

Bloo crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"Bloo, I know that this might be a bit much, but can I ask you for a favor?"

"Absolutely not!" Bloo blurted out.

Mac winced at the rejection in his voice. He clasped his hands together like he was begging.

"Aw, come on, Bloo, please? I have to try to look for a new job," Mac said, "and I can't do that if I have to take care of Junior. Just watch him for the day."

"Why can't you get Wilt or Eduardo to do it?"

"Junior doesn't like Ed, and Wilt is busy helping out Frankie and Vince today."

Bloo protested, "But I have to work on the yard. Mr. Herriman told me that I have to weed or something stupid."

"So just take him with you! Junior can help. He can do little tasks like that."

"Little? It's a very important task, Mac. I'm not incompe…incompat…"

"Incompetent?"

"I'm not that," Bloo said decidedly.

Mac shook his hands a little bit. "Please, just one day. He really likes you, so he shouldn't be too big of a problem for you. Besides, knowing you, you won't do it anyways."

Bloo glanced over at Junior, who was hanging onto the doorway, looking bored out of his mind. He babbled incoherently, and kept stealing glances at Bloo. Bloo sighed and turned back to Mac.

"Okay. But you owe me _big time_, and not just for one favor. And," Bloo added in a hiss through clenched teeth, "I am _not _his dad, okay?"

"Of course," Mac answered coolly, lowering his eyelids. "I'll be in Frankie's room using her computer if you need me."

Bloo took a quick shower and made Junior wait outside the door for him. After that was done he headed downstairs and went into the old shed in the back yard and grabbed some digging hooks and gloves. Junior begged for his own pair of gloves but Bloo ignored him. He then went around to all the bushes and crawled on his belly and started pulling out the weeds.

"Hey, Bloo?" Junior asked. "Wanna play?"

"I'm busy here, kid."

"Later?"

"No."

"Why?"

Bloo glared at him. "You want to do this?"

Junior shook his head. Bloo snapped, "Then shut up!"

"That's bad."

"Agh!" Bloo cried out and he ferociously ripped a weed from its place in the earth.

The whole afternoon was spent with Bloo going around to all the flower beds and bush beds and pulling weeds while Junior begged and whined to do something, and Bloo adamantly refused him.

Overhead the sky was cloudy, and the clouds were gray, a sure sign of rain to eventually occur in the day. They would catch brief glimpses of sunlight. As the wind was starting to pick up, the rain finally started to fall down.

"Bloo?" Junior cried out desperately, sounding almost tearful. "Can we play?"

"_Kid, for the eleventh millionth time, I am busy!"_

The thunder cracked and boomed, and the rain started to come down even harder. Bloo took off his gloves and put the hooks in his bucket and started walking back towards the shed. Junior followed, and as he tried to, he tripped and fell in a patch of dirt that had been quickly turned to mud.

Junior started wailing loudly, his head thrown back and his hands covering his eyes. Bloo instantly rushed over to him.

"Junior? Junior, what's wrong?" Bloo then gaped at the sight of his clothes, spattered and soaked with mud.

Junior sniffled. "Daddy will be mad." And then he continued crying.

"Oh, oh come on Junior it was an accident," Bloo was starting to panic now that the sound of Junior's crying was picking up in volume.

Bloo, half wanting to cover his ears but needing to shush him, started to make desperate attempts to calm him down. By giving Junior a closer examination he saw that there were droplets of red blood glittering through the dark mud on his left knee. Bloo wiped away all the mud, flinging it back onto the ground.

_Okay, okay, think Blooregard, think, _Bloo told himself. _Remember when Mac was little and he got hurt, what happened?..._

He kissed Junior's knee, and instantly recoiled, wiping his mouth that had traces of blood on it. It didn't cease Junior's crying. Bloo glared up at the watering heavens above him, as if to place the blame on someone other than himself.

Then Bloo did one of the things that he was probably best at: he attempted to bribe him.

"Junior, look, if you stop crying, we'll go inside and we'll play for a little while, just you and me," Bloo blurted out hastily.

"Nooooo…"

"What do you mean, 'no?'" Bloo snorted. "You've been begging for that—what if I said we'd play for the rest of the day?"

"Nooooo…!" Definitely whinier than the previous time.

"What if I said that we'd play together for the rest of your life and I'd be your best friend forever?"

"NOOOOOO…!" he was practically shrieking through his tears now.

"Cripes, kid, what do you want?!" Bloo threw his arms up in the air and waved him around wildly.

"I want… I want candy!" he sobbed.

"You want candy? Okay, yeah, sure, whatever... Come with me for a second," Bloo said, picking up Junior.

Bloo carelessly threw the tools in the shed and then hustled into the house. He headed for Herriman's office, carrying the child dripping with mud. Junior was now attempting to wipe the snot off of his face.

Bloo sighed with relief when he saw that Herriman wasn't there. He snagged all of the coins that sat in a little marble dish on his desk and then quickly left. With an agile hand he removed an umbrella by a stand positioned near the door, and the two of them were off.

There was a little candy and ice cream shop parlor down the street that was often filled with people. Today however, it wasn't as filled due to all of the rain, and only the owner remained at the counter, watching the leaves be washed away into the sewers.

Then Bloo and Junior entered, and he audibly gasped at the sight of the child.

"Kid, go pick out some candy."

Junior licked his lips and rushed over to the glass display cases, where baskets of candy dressed in wax paper seemed to be practically waving and screaming at people that passed by. Junior jabbed his little finger at the glass and pointed to some lemon candies, and a few chocolates that were a nickel for two pieces. Junior got two small plastic bags of both kinds and then with a happy little run, he headed over to a table in the corner.

Bloo sat across from Junior, who was shoving two pieces of the lemon in his mouth. The mud on his clothes had now caked on. Bloo propped his head up against his hand, an eyebrow arched as he watched this kid.

_He's not anything like Mac, other than that weird mop hair do, _Bloo thought. _And he does act a lot like __me. But he's not my kid. _

Junior raised his head and then pushed the bag of chocolates over to Bloo.

"Munch, munch," Junior said, giggling a little bit too excitedly.

Bloo grinned and took a couple of pieces and started munching on the chocolates. They were buttery and dark, perfect; as the shop was reputable to have the best cheap fudge and chocolates.

"So, how is life with your dad?"

Junior shrugged, kicking his heels a little bit. His chin could barely reach the top of the table.

"I bet your dad is pretty lame. Is it all rules, rules, rules?"

Junior's mouth opened a little bit too widely as he started laughing, bobbing his head up and down. Bloo frowned in disgust at the sight of the slobbery, half chewed food in Junior's mouth.

"Ew, I don't want to see what you're chewing."

Junior clamped his jaws shut, but his smile wasn't evaporating.

"Do you love Daddy, Pops?"

"… Say that again."

"Do you love Daddy?"

"I'm not your dad, and no," Bloo said with a heavy sigh. "Jeez, you're a strange kid."

Junior tilted his head to one side, and opened his mouth as if to speak again, but Bloo dismissed him by getting up away from the table. He grabbed onto Junior's hand and pulled him out the door, taking the two bags of candy.

Junior stared up at Bloo with questioning eyes as he watched him pull open the umbrella. Bloo muttered curse words under his breath as he struggled to push it open all the way. He glanced back down and saw Junior watching him.

"You know," Bloo grumbled, "you do seem like you're a lot like me. But I'm not your Pops."

Junior smiled, and then started shrieking with laughter as he propelled himself down the street. Bloo gaped, stammering nonsensically, and then proceeded to chase after him. When he caught up to him, Junior was bouncing up and down, babbling incomprehensively. Bloo grabbed onto his hand and held it tightly as they crossed the street and then proceeded down the street to Foster's.

Mac was not going to be happy.

And unfortunately, when they arrived home, Mac was waiting for them in the foyer. He had his arms crossed, looking slightly nervous and worried.

"Bloo," he called out when he saw them walk through the door.

Junior sprinted through the door, waving his arms around crazily, laughing hysterically. He imitated the sounds of a plane as he raced around the room, the loud "WHOOSH" noises echoing unpleasantly.

Bloo quickly hid the bags of candy behind his back and grinned at Mac. Mac grabbed onto Junior as he passed by and jerked him to his side. He gaped at the mess on his clothes and the wound on his leg.

"Blooregard Junior _what _got into you today?" Mac cried out. "Bloo, what happened to him?"

"I dunno."

"He's all hyper, covered in mud, and he's got an owie on his leg," Mac snapped, shooting daggers at Bloo with his eyes.

Bloo snickered. "Owie, Mac? Really?"

"What did you do?"

"I gave him candy."

Mac gasped, horrified, his pupils growing large. "You did _what?_"

"I gave him a dandy… lion?"

"You gave him candy!"

"Jeez, Mac," Bloo said, "sorry, but calm down. He seems fine, it's just a sugar high."

Mac crossed his arms and then the two of them turned and watched Junior. He was still spinning around, and he zoomed directly towards the staircase. He was going too fast, so he couldn't halt himself, and his head banged into the banister. He fell down onto his bottom and, completely fine, got right back up and raced around again, laughing hysterically.

"Thanks," Mac said coolly, addressing Bloo once again. "Because that's how I want to spend my evening—up all night with a two year old on a sugar high."

Bloo shrugged his shoulders and then tried to walk past him, but Mac grabbed the top of his head.

"Uh uh. You're _so _not getting out of this."

"Didn't you agree that you owed me favors?"

"You're not done watching him," Mac said with a tight smile.

The evening wore on in the longest way possible. Mac had to hide the candy and refrain from eating some himself, and Bloo had to confine Junior in the little room they had. He made countless attempts to grab Junior and put him in his crib, and each attempt failed miserably.

Bloo tried playing with him, and for a long two hours, they played cowboys (which in reality was Bloo being the horse and Junior being the cowboy) and secret agents. Junior was an endless ball of energy, and to keep up with him was going to be a real challenge.

After Mac had finished up applying for a job over the internet, he came to the room and swooped up Junior and tried to change up the game.

"No, no, no!" Junior cried out, panting. "We were playing secret agents! You're the villain!"

"I thought I was the villain," Bloo protested.

"No, now you can be my buddy," Junior retorted as Mac set him down.

Junior made a gun with his hands and pretended to fire at Mac, who sprinted away. Mac jumped over Bloo's bed, keeping his head ducked so that he didn't hit his head on the upper bunk. Junior squealed gleefully and chased after him.

Mac ran up and threw open the door, using it as a shield. Junior tried to reach Mac, but Mac had headed out into the hallway by then. Bloo followed behind Junior, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Go get him!" Junior cried out a little breathlessly.

Bloo's ghost like figure flew down the hallway, turning around the corner after Mac. They circled around and Mac stumbled back into the same area as Junior. Junior aimed with his fake gun and then screamed, "Bang!" and Mac fell to the floor.

His tongue lolled out of his mouth to one side, his eyes rolling up lazily to the ceiling.

"Dad!" Junior cried out.

Mac pretended to play dead until Junior was leaning over his face, and then he pounced, throwing his body forward and wrapping his arms around Junior in a bear hug.

Junior squealed and Mac kissed his cheeks multiple times, squeezing him tight.

"I think you've got all your energy out, little guy," he said. "It's time for bed now."

He carried Junior into the room and went over to the corner, where an old crib had been set up. Mac quickly changed Junior and then set him in bed.

"I'll be right outside with Bloo," he murmured, pushing back Junior's hair. "Okay?"

"Okay." Junior yawned.

Mac smiled and drew up the blankets underneath his chin. He crept out into the hallway, where Bloo was standing, leaning against the wall.

"Okay, so he's not as bad as me when it comes to sugar," Mac said, giving an apologetic smile. "Sorry for being such a jerk about it."

"It's no problem… Mac. Did you tell him that I was his dad?"

"Uh…" Mac shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I might have mentioned that, yeah. I'm not going to lie to him, Bloo."

"Do you have proof? That you were pregnant?"

"Oh yeah. Totally. Here."

They snuck back into the room and Mac tiptoed over to his backpack, and unzipped it. He removed a small vinyl photo album, and they crept back out into the hallway. The two of them plopped down on the floor. Mac flipped open the cover and then pointed to a picture on the first page.

"This is me at four months," he said.

There was a picture of Mac from the front, and also from the side. His stomach protruded out overwhelmingly over the band of his sweatpants. The next page was Mac at five months, and then the next pages were pictures of a small, dark, foreign object in a large tube, growing in some sort of liquid. Multiple IVs were linked to it. In one picture, Mac had lifted up his shirt to reveal a small, almost invisible scar on his belly from where they had removed Junior.

"So you weren't lying," Bloo mumbled, his eyes bulging, his mouth hanging open.

Mac rolled his eyes. "Of course I wasn't."

He pointed to a picture of Junior, fully formed, with a head of brown hair that drifted around his face. Nine months.

"That's him," Mac murmured.

"So he is mine," Bloo whispered when Mac had closed the album.

"Yep."

"So Junior is some sort of ungodly freak of nature?"

Mac growled, "_Ye-es. _Don't call him that though."

"So… I'm a dad?"

"If you want to be," Mac answered. "You don't seem like you want to be though."

"Junior's okay. I think I can put up with him…"

Mac beamed.

"But I'm not ready to be a father just yet, Mac."

Mac's smile vanished.

"I mean, I'll help you take care of him and stuff, but its weird calling myself his dad when I just met him."

"Y-Yeah, that's okay. I mean, as long as you're around and in his life, I can't complain." Mac propped his head up on his knees.

An awkward silence hovered over them.

"So… have you been with anyone else?" Mac asked, glancing over at Bloo hastily.

"Oh yeah," Bloo lied smoothly. "Tons of girls."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Bloo nodded, trying to seem cool. "You?"

"Nobody. No one wants to date a pregnant man who is a homosexual fanta-sexual."

Bloo felt a little bit lighter in his heart. He smiled. Mac smiled back.

"You're available though now, aren't you?"

"Yeah, sure," Bloo said, grinning flirtatiously. "Are you?"

"I guess…" Mac mumbled, blushing and ducking his head. "But I shouldn't be thinking about that. I've got a two year old kid." He looked at Bloo. "So I should find someone that works for me. You know, who wants a committed relationship."

Bloo's smile faded instantly, and he felt awkward. He felt Mac had directed a little hatred towards his direction, a little bitterness.

"But I do want you in Junior's life. That's why I came back." Mac stood up. "I'm just not sure if I want you in mine, like before."

Despite this, he kissed the top of Bloo's head and murmured, "Thanks for taking care of him today."

Bloo felt a burning in his heart and sorrow in the pit of his stomach like he had felt when he had first broken up with Mac. And it was a shitty feeling that he didn't like at all. The only thing he wanted was Mac.

So, Bloo decided he was going to try to win him back.


	4. Chapter Three: Exoneration

**Chapter Three**

Mac had had very little success in finding a job, and wasn't likely going to find one anytime soon. So, he took up his old position of house caretaker, and did the cleaning, cooking, and helping out whenever it was needed. There was less stress put on him then the previous time however, since Vince was around. He was a nice, strong man that was able to do most of the outdoor work or any heavy lifting.

As for Mac's relationship with Frankie, things were still rather… awkward. They made light conversation in passing, but never actually sat down and had their long talks filled with laughter and feeling. Ever since Frankie had first found out about Mac and Bloo's relationship, she had been dejected that Mac hadn't told her, and so she had put that distance between them. Mac missed this connection, even though he had had his best friend Denise to talk to.

During the day, Bloo, Wilt, and Eduardo all ran around with Junior. He was a fun little tyke, and had a lot of energy even though he was two. He enjoyed traveling down the hallways, climbing the stairs, and peering down the laundry chutes. He didn't mind having to wait for someone to do a chore when they had to, and would sit and watch patiently. He didn't bore very easily, but he was often distracted.

Bloo obviously spent the most time with him. He found himself becoming more and more attached to Junior each moment he spent with him. He especially liked how he could find little tidbits about Junior that were similar to him. Junior in turn developed an adoration for him similar to his other father.

At a certain point, Bloo knew that despite whatever happened between him and Mac in the past, present and future, he was going to want to be in Junior's life, and would not let the two of them walk away again. If they had to walk away, they couldn't be very far.

"Bloo?" Mac walked into the parlor, where Bloo was lying on the rug.

On top of his shapeless knees was Junior, who was bouncing up and down and giggling. Bloo glanced over at Mac.

"Yeah?"

Mac smiled and walked over and picked up Junior. "Thanks for watching him again today."

"No prob," Bloo answered, yawning. "Though he did get on my nerves a little bit today."

"Why? What happened?"

"Well… Cheese happened."

"Oh boy."

"Yeah… it's a shame, what are you going to do?" Bloo shrugged his shoulders, stretching his arms above his head. "Junior wanted chocolate milk, and then I gave him chocolate milk, and then Cheese showed up demanding chocolate milk, and when Junior gave it to him, Cheese drank some and then made that face…" Bloo paused to contort his face into that of someone who looked like they were stoned, mouth drawn open in a slight smile, eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

Junior let out a short scream at the sight of Bloo's face and buried his head against Mac's shoulder. Mac stroked Junior's hair, and sat back down on the carpet with Bloo.

"I've been having a bit of trouble lately," Mac said, "with Frankie."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" Mac sucked in air through his teeth. "I… You know, I miss her. I'm trying to repair things, but I'm not so good at that. Not like that I used to be." He ran a hand through his hair. "The more I talk to her, the more awkward it seems. The tension. I think she hates me, honestly."

"Hey, if Frankie hates anybody, she hates me. After all, I've ruined a lot of things for her. Her date with that one guy. I've left the fridge open once too many. Stole the bus. Thrown wild house parties. Oh, yeah, and I think that concert thing—"

"—No, that was Goofball."

"Who?"

"Clown nose guy," Mac pointed to his nose, circling around it. "But, yeah, you may be right, you could have ruined that for her as well."

"The point is all you need to do is talk to her. Otherwise, there's no hope for fixing anything."

Mac sighed heavily. "It just seems awkward to approach her and be like, 'We need to talk.'"

"Hey, with any luck, maybe she's pregnant and you can offer in some tips. She's irritable like she is—"

"—Bloo, what's the point in that?"

"Icebreaker."

"Uh huh." Mac rolled his eyes. Junior was now a little ways from them, rolling some of his toy cars over the carpet. A couple of the imaginary friends gathered around him, filled with interest.

Mac hugged his knees to his chest. "I don't think that I should talk to her about it. She's emotionally wrecked over Madame Foster. She's getting worse, you know." He cast a look at Bloo. "And the doctor actually said that other day she has an estimated six more months."

"Six months?" Bloo nearly shouted it, and Mac hurriedly shushed him.

"Yes," he said in a low, grave voice. "Six months. So I don't know if it's appropriate."

"Mac. Jeez. It's only because of Madame Foster that you were able to do stuff. To see me. To work here. To live here." Bloo said, scratching his head. "When she's dead, it's not like Frankie's gonna out you. Not with Junior."

"I hope not," Mac mumbled. "I mean, I know how much work and money it takes into running this house… Madame Foster's fortune can't possibly reach out to two families."

"Mac." Bloo clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Just talk to her."

"Now?"

"Yeah," Bloo incited. "Do it now. Now! Run to her Mac!"

Mac rolled his eyes and stood up. "Watch Junior."

"Like you will." Bloo returned the eye roll and watched Mac exit the room.

Mac found Frankie in her bedroom, sitting at a vanity table that was off to the right of the bathroom door. Her hair had been removed from its ponytail. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Mac could see the age lines that had worn around her face, the stress that had carved its name into her beauty. But Frankie had once been a love of his, a young and simple one. And he had respected her.

When he kept the secret about the relationship he had with Bloo, it had broken her heart.

Mac gently rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. Frankie turned around, setting down her lip gloss, and looked at Mac.

"Oh hey Mac," she said affably. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" she twisted her legs around and faced him.

"Um… I wanted to talk on a personal level." He sat down on the edge of her bed, directly across from her.

Frankie blinked a little uncertainly. She swallowed slightly, looking uncomfortable. Fidgeting, she readjusted herself on her stool. "Like what?"

"Well, you know… I never told you about me and Bloo. And we basically stopped talking," Mac explained. "I want to resolve that issue now."

"Mac. It's not a problem." She sighed. "I mean, yeah, I was hurt…"

Her voice trailed off, and once again she exhaled, releasing the air from her body. There was a deafening, tense silence in the room. Mac leaned forward.

"Frankie," he said in a constricted voice, "I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't know how to tell you. When I asked you your opinion on it, you seemed disgusted by it. And when you found out, you wanted to… fix me. It freaked me out."

"It might…" she laughed a little awkwardly. "Have been a good idea to 'fix' you, though, wouldn't it? I mean you did end up with Junior." She halted and waved her hands. "No, I mean, I don't mean it's a bad thing, I just…"

"I know, I know, it's uncomfortable." He held up his hands. "I get that. I mean, obviously if you're uncomfortable with it, I'm not going to dish out all the details and aspects of my life with Bloo…" he halted suddenly. "The life I _had _with Bloo."

He shook his head and said, "The point is, I just want to say I'm sorry. And I wanted to ask if you would accept me and we could become friends again."

"Mac." She smiled. "Of course. Of course, Mac." She pulled him in for a hug and ruffled his hair. "I missed you!" her voice cracked a little.

He looked into her face, and she looked into his. Her eyes were watery.

"I… I've always considered you to be like my little brother, so when… when I couldn't be there for you…" she bit her lip and shook her head. "I just… I felt awful."

"I'm never going to keep another secret like that from you ever again, Frankie," Mac affirmed, nodding. "Never."

She kissed his cheek and they embraced once again, and for a long silence moment, it was a tight wrap of friendship, a release from all those painful years of silence.

"So… how was Europe?"


	5. Chapter Four: Family Matters

**Chapter Four**

Junior awaited his lunch patiently in his high chair. He absent mindedly played with his neon plastic silverware and suckled on the spout from his sippy cup while watching Bloo put together a meal that consisted of kids' pasta. Bloo grumbled, wearing a path in the linoleum as he marched between the counter and microwave multiple times.

"I don't think you're doing it right," Junior piped up.

Bloo turned around, glaring. "Look kid, you want to eat or not?"

"Daddy says I need to." Junior returned the death glare, adding the flash of his pink tongue.

"Daddy says you need to," Bloo repeated mockingly.

Junior banged his silverware on his tray furiously, kicking his legs.

"Okay, okay!" Bloo said shrilly. "It's coming!"

The microwave beeped and Bloo went and retrieved the food. He spooned some into a tiny bowl, and then gave it to Junior. Junior blew on the pieces carefully before inserting them into his mouth. Droplets of tomato sauce accumulated around the corners of his mouth. At the taste, he smiled and giggled.

"Thank you," he mumbled through a mouthful of food, so it sounded like, "Thmmank woo."

Bloo nodded and helped himself to the rest that was in the can. He sat down next to Junior, eating while flipping through the comics.

"Daddy went out?"

"Mac went to a job interview," Bloo said without looking up. "He'll be back soon."

"What for?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's getting a job in imaginary friends cases again," Bloo suggested. "I don't remember."

"I hope Daddy gets it."

"Why, you want to get rid of me that soon?" Bloo was surprised by his statement, clamping his mouth shut.

Junior gazed at him with worried eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, kid, nothing."

"I don't wanna leave you." his voice pitched in sadness, like he was ready to cry.

"No, Junior…" he found himself suddenly washed over with a surge of protective assuaging, like an actual parent. Bloo took the edges of the bib and rubbed it across Junior's face. "Look, even if your dad leaves Foster's, I'll still be around."

"You promise? You won't leave?" his black eyes bore deep into him, wrenching at Bloo's heart.

"Never. I will never leave you."

"How?"

"Well…" Bloo mumbled uncertainly, and then he thought of it. "You know how I'm an imaginary friend? Well, imaginary friends never give up on their kids. No matter how lame they are. And I was your Dad's."

_If you never gave up, how come you broke up? _

_How come you let him go to Europe? _

_You fucking moron. You loved him and you let him go. _

Bloo winced at the thoughts he heard, in his own voice, searing his brain, suddenly bringing up the cognizance he never thought he had. He pushed it away, and continued to address Junior.

"You're my kid now," Bloo said. "And I'm stuck with you, Junior. Whether you like it or not."

Junior giggled happily. He dipped a finger in his pasta and dabbed an "o" shaped spaghetti on the area between Bloo's eyes. Bloo smiled, and then swiped the piece and pasted it on Junior's own nose. Junior readied his hand, prepared to dip it into his bowl and start flinging handfuls, but Bloo quickly stopped him. They ate the rest of lunch, left the mess for Frankie or Vince to clean, and then Bloo went to give Junior a bath. He was still in his footy pajamas.

There was a small tub in one of the bathrooms, so Bloo managed to snag it and be able to bathe Junior in peace and quiet. Junior's attitudes about bath time changed daily. Try to rush him or not give him any toys, he was a pain in the ass, but if you did the opposite of that, then he would be fine. Most days Bloo didn't have much patience to stall around waiting for Junior to finish bathing. Fortunately, today he was in a good mood, so he splashed and sprayed him and they played.

Suddenly the door threw open and chaotically crashed into the wall.

"_I GOT THE JOB! I GOT THE JOB!" _Mac's wild shouts of excitement echoed throughout the room.

Bloo, who had been spraying Junior with the extension, now felt Mac's weight press down on his back, tackling him. Mac was laughing and Bloo's arm flew upwards, and the water flew everywhere.

"Ma-a-a-a-a-a-ac! Now look what Frankie has to clean up!"

"I got the job," Mac repeated, eyes shining. "They loved my enthusiasm, my experiences… They were thrilled to hire me."

"So what are you working as?"

"A social worker for a performing and creative arts middle school in the city," Mac answered. "I was told that I was more than qualified."

"Does that mean you'll have to live in the city?" Bloo asked, suddenly cross.

"Well, uh…" Mac's good emotions vanished. "Um... no, not necessarily. I could take the bus in every day or carpool. There's no car here that I could take, other than Madame Foster's. But I doubt she'd let me drive it."

"We'll figure it out." Bloo conjured a fake smile, his darting eyes gesturing that he didn't want to upset Junior.

Mac nodded and smiled, turning to his son who sat in the bath tub, peering up at them through drenched bangs.

"It's good that Daddy has a job! Why don't we all go out for ice cream tonight? As a fam…"

Mac blushed then, nervous. Bloo gave a reassuring look and agreed, "Yeah. Sure. A family."

That night they went to an ice cream parlor and sat down at a table. Mac ordered a sugar free sorbet, Junior got a small twist cone, and Bloo went all out on a hot fudge sundae—_with nuts, _he emphasized strongly.

Junior swung his legs while he was eating again. His mouth furiously licked and tried to close around the dripping, precariously perched coil of ice cream, so far proving successful. Mac had stuffed napkins into his shirt for a makeshift bib, and laid one across his pants so that he wouldn't drip all over himself.

Bloo and Mac sat across from Junior, oddly enough side by side. Mac looked intently at Bloo's sundae, and with a swipe of his plastic spoon, snagged a forbidden bite of the sugar laden hot fudge. Bloo swatted his hand away and then returned the favor by stealing some of the sorbet. The two giggled then like children. Junior studied them, watched their behaviors.

"Are you and Daddy gonna get married?"

"Huh?" they instantly stopped what they were doing.

"Married?"

"Um… no, that's not legal, honey," Mac said. "And um, your father and I aren't together."

Bloo arched a brow at Mac, wanting to reprimand him for addressing him as Junior's "father."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated," they said in unison.

"Everything's too hard." Junior's eyes bulged, and he munched on the edges of the waffle cone.

They walked back that night, allowing Junior to run a safe distance in front of them. The fall night was cool, but warm enough for a simple stroll. Junior kicked at leaves and admired the displays in the windows.

"I'm a bit concerned," Mac admitted. "I mean… we're a family. But… just what kind of family are we?"

"We're a family with gay parents. What's so hard to get?"

"But we're…" Mac sighed heavily. "I mean, we would be gay, 'divorced' fathers, except you fluctuate from being Junior's father to being just a friend, and it's just… It's going to confuse him. I'm worried it's going to screw him up."

Bloo glanced over at Mac. "What's your solution then, poindexter?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. I don't know." he rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know if Junior realizes he has a family, or know who it's members are."

"Well, we're his parents."

"Somehow it's not the same, Bloo."

"Are you saying we should get back together?"

Mac actually snorted at this. "Yeah. Like that's a good idea."

"What do you mean?" Bloo narrowed his eyes.

"You're not going to conform to a cookie cutter, boring little suburban life, Bloo."

"Well neither are you," Bloo retorted. "Jesus, Mac. Look at you. Look at the way you live. If you wanted cookie cutter suburban, you would have found Mr. Tall Blond and Gorgeous and lived in a gated community and gotten Junior a puppy and lived out your life."

"You ever think that's not how I intended for my life to be?" Mac said, his eyes hurt. "I thought that I was going to get out of the city, out of living in apartments. Nobody wants to have a kid when their living and job situation is this unstable."

Mac's shoe scraped at the concrete and he said with a bitter laugh, "Man, I've always been poor."

Bloo nodded. He didn't say anything. He figured it'd be better to let the anger die down. For the rest of the way back, they remained silent. Junior didn't seem to notice that they had been fighting.


	6. Chapter 5: Run Away Bloos

**Chapter Five**

For the next couple of weeks, Mac was incredibly busy in the mornings. He woke up very early, which unintentionally woke everyone else in the room up, which made people grumpy and for a series of harsh whispered apologies while hastily tiptoeing to the bathroom. Usually in the evenings, Mac would make his lunch before bed and leave the bag in the fridge. It would be his last thing to grab before he headed off to the bus station to be taken into the city.

It was one particular morning that Mac was busy, having overslept because he forgot to set the alarm.

"Bloo, when you're here today, would you mind, um, tidying up the bedroom a little bit? It looks like there was an explosion in there."

"Awww, but Mac, the Ice Charades are going to be on T.V today! It's their first show of the season!"

"Bloo, I'd really appreciate it," Mac gritted his teeth, shoving all his paperwork into a manila folder, and then scraping that off of the counter into his bag.

"Ugh, fine, whatever." Bloo made it evident that he was going to be in an uncooperative mood today.

Mac rolled his eyes. "Don't be a dick," he hissed underneath his breath, grabbing his coffee cup and heading towards the door.

"Daddy!" Junior cried out suddenly.

"What, baby?"

"Hug n' a kiss!" Junior toddled earnestly over to the door, stretching his arms over his head to Mac.

Mac bent over and quickly gave him a hug, and started to move for the door.

"Daddy! A kiss!"

"I'm really late today, Junior," Mac grumbled, but none the less kissing his cheek.

Junior walked out onto the porch and waved goodbye. Bloo followed him and rolled his eyes.

"Give it a rest, would you kid?" he crossed his arms and leaned back against the doorframe. "Anyways, I was thinking that you and I would watch the Ice Charades today…"

"Cartoon?"

Bloo blinked. "Well. No. It's only the most awesome of awesome things that's ever to be put on ice."

Junior made a face of dislike.

"Oh come on Junior don't give me that face. It's cool. I promise. Come on. Let's go eat."

They headed back into the kitchen. As Bloo reached in the fridge for the jug of milk, Junior noticed a glimpse of brown paper.

"Daddy left his lunch!" Junior cried out.

Bloo arched a brow and looked back into the fridge. There, right behind a jar of mayonnaise, was Mac's lunch.

"Oh. So it is." Bloo shut the fridge. "Well, it's too late to go and give it to him now. The bus has probably already left."

"Let's give it to him!"

"Nah, Junior. He'll be fine without it. He'll just have a school lunch. It won't kill him."

Junior made a pouty face, and even while he was eating that mask remained. When breakfast was all said and done, Bloo checked the clock and realized that the Ice Charades were about to start.

"Come on, Junior, let's go and watch the show!"

"No." Junior protested. "I don't want to."

Anxious, Bloo attempted to coax him once more, but after Junior adamantly refused, Bloo threw up his hands in defeat. He turned and marched up off the stairs, hanging a left for the arcade room. This left little Junior all alone in the foyer. He stared up at the stair case, expecting Bloo to return to him. When he realized that this wasn't going to happen, he instantly made a beeline for the kitchen. Wilt was in there, cleaning up some dishes.

"Wilt!" Junior cried out. "Wilt!"

"Oh, Junior, hey," Wilt said, turning around to face him. His sneakers squeaked on the linoleum as he did so. "What's up?"

Junior pointed to the fridge. "Daddy's lunch!"

"Mac's lunch?" Wilt mumbled in confusion. "Um…"

"Daddy's lunch!" he recapitulated, more urgently.

"Okay, okay…" Wilt walked over to the fridge, spotted the paper bag, and lowered it down to Junior. "Here you go."

Junior raced out of the room, calling a thank you over his shoulder. Wilt shook his head, dense to the situation, and returned to his chore. Junior, meanwhile, was masterminding a grand scheme (or what he considered to be a grand scheme.) He knew where the "city" was. It had a bunch of skyscrapers, and a tall green statue like the one he saw on television. And his Daddy worked at the middle school. It shouldn't be too hard to find. He'd be able to do it.

So off he set, to deliver the lunch that his beloved father needed.

"Junior! Junior?" Bloo called out, twisting his neck to see into the bedroom. No Junior there either. He had only left him unoccupied for an hour. He couldn't have gone far… but usually he was in either the arcade, the foyer, or the bedroom. Also, he normally came whenever Bloo called out for him, the first try. Bloo couldn't even detect the _thump-thump-thump _of the little boy's feet coming to find him.

Now concerned, he headed down the stairs and came across Mr. Herriman.

"Master Blooregard," the rabbit readjusted his monocle. "Whatever is the rush?"

"I'm looking for Junior. You seen him?"

"He hasn't been with you?" the disapproval rang loudly.

Bloo winced at it. He cast a one eyed glare at the rabbit. "No. No he has not. I'm starting to worry a little bit."

Herriman sighed and went over to the speaker system. He removed the apparatus and spoke into it.

"_If anyone has seen Junior, I repeat, if anyone has seen Junior, please bring him to the foyer where his… father… is waiting for him."_

Bloo waited. And waited. It must have been twenty minutes later when Wilt finally came down the stairs. He looked breathless, stressed.

"Bloo? You're looking for Junior?"

"Have you seen him?" Bloo asked, eyes wide.

"No. Nobody has seen him. I haven't seen him since this morning. He was asking for Mac's lunch, and then I gave it to him and…" Wilt smacked a hand across his face. "Oh…. Oh, oh no…"

"What the hell?! He went to go find Mac?! Why didn't you say anything!?"

"I thought he was just going to eat his lunch," Wilt groaned, horrified. "I didn't realize that he was going to try to give it to Mac."

"Oh shit," Bloo whispered. "I have to go and call Mac." Bloo made a start for the phone but then halted and let out a loud, drawn out groan. "No, I can't! Mac is going to be sooo pissed with me for leaving him alone—"

"Why did you leave him alone?"

"I was watching the Ice Charades and he didn't want to!"

"Bloo! You couldn't have just given him a toy or something while you watched it?"

"I couldn't afford to miss any of it!" Bloo waved his arms wildly in the air. "It's the Ice Charades, damn it!"

"Call Mac," Wilt snapped. "You have to call Mac right now."

Bloo whined the whole ten paces he took to go over to the phone. Quickly, he dialed Mac's work number. Mac picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Mac? It's Bloo."

"Bloo? What is it?"

"Um… Junior… he um…"

"…Bloo. Don't you _dare _tell me what I think you're going to tell me."

"Good!" Bloo raised the phone, preparing to hang it up, when suddenly Mac's furious shouts started echoing out of the receiver.

"OMIGOD BLOO YOU LOST JUNIOR?! OMIGOD OMIGOD WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Bloo winced and waited for the screaming to die down. When it had, he could only hear Mac panting, panicking as he tried to catch his breath.

"How did this happen, Bloo?"

"You left your lunch. He took it and I think he left to go find you."

He heard Mac cursing underneath his breath. Bloo winced.

"I'm coming home. I'm going to get a friend to drive me home. You go out and start looking for Junior."

"Alright. Got it. See you when you get here."

Bloo hung up the phone and then turned to Wilt, and Eduardo who had just recently joined them.

"Let's go find him."

They searched everywhere they could possibly think. Up and down the streets. Around the grounds. They couldn't figure out where he was. They even asked passerby, and they couldn't remember any blue skinned toddler that had been walking down the street unattended. Mac eventually showed up, and the four of them all met on the corner by the Foster's house.

Mac was glaring furiously, shaking. "Please tell me you've found my baby."

"No," Bloo whispered. "Come on, let's spilt up and look for him. We've got to cover more ground."

Wilt and Eduardo spilt up, and Bloo and Mac went together. They went inside the shops and asked customers and managers; they walked through the parks and made repeated calls back to the house to see if he had returned home. When it was nearing late afternoon, Mac was beginning to seriously freak out.

They were trudging by the park, after having perused the playground and coming up empty. There were a few leads that they had received, but none had proven successful.

"I can't believe this!" Mac suddenly shouted, springing around to look at Bloo. "I _trust _you to watch him, Bloo! I trusted you to watch him!" he clenched his fists, burning. "If you weren't so goddamn selfish!"

"I was only gone for an hour! He's a two year old!"

"You know what? All he needed was a goddamn hour! Hell, he didn't even need that; he could have gotten away in ten minutes! The point is, you lost my son! _Our _son!" Mac spat venomously. "If you weren't such a deadbeat dad, this wouldn't have happened!"

"I didn't _know _about him, Mac!" Bloo retorted, glaring. "You took off for Europe and didn't contact me for two years! You've sprung this all on me in the past two months and expected me to handle it! You abandoned me, Mac! So you can't just blame this all on me!"

"That doesn't matter—"

"And Jesus, if it's so difficult for you to raise your damn kid, why did you have him in the first place?"

"Because HE WAS _YOURS!_" Mac screamed back at him, tears welling up in his eyes. "He was our son, he was our baby! I loved you, you dumbass! You never returned it! You treated me like shit and badmouthed me!"

He tugged himself away from Bloo, weeping, the tears flowing down his cheeks in two asymmetrical, crystal clear rivers. "And I love him, Bloo, I love him so much… He's all I've got, Bloo. I'm sorry that you had to get stuck in my mess."

Mac crossed his arms, bending over as if in pain, and hung his head low, crying. Bloo shook his head, approaching him.

"…But Mac, you don't get it. He's not all you've got. You have me, too." Bloo possessively pulled Mac to him. "I beat myself up so much for losing you, Mac." He closed his eyes. "I should have told you that I loved you. And I didn't." he squeezed him. "I want to be in your mess, so, so bad."

Mac chuckled a little. He raised his head to look at Bloo. His brown eyes, burning intensely.

_He still loves me too_. Bloo thought. _He hasn't ever stopped loving me. _

A passerby suddenly poked Mac on the shoulder. "Excuse me? Didn't you say earlier that you were looking for a little boy?" he pointed over the gate to the park. "There was a little boy napping on the park bench. No one was with him."

Shouting their grace and thanks, the two sprinted into the park and searched all around. It didn't take long till they found Junior, draped across the seat of the bench. He was sleeping soundly, the remains of Mac's lunch marked clearly on his face.

"Ohhh," Mac cried out, swooping up Junior and hugging him tight. "Oh, oh, oh…" he kissed his cheeks.

Junior raised his head, yawning. "Daddy…?"

"Yes, honey? Yeah?" Mac ran a hand over Junior's hair.

"I ate your lunch."

That evening, Junior was given a long lecture and promptly put to bed after dinner. Even though he had been napping on that park bench, the events of his day had surely worn him out. Mac gazed at the crib in the corner and smiled at the sight of his son, safe in his bed, safe in their home.

He shut the door quietly and turned around to retreat to a quiet area of the house to work, when he saw Bloo standing in front of him.

"Mac," Bloo said, his eyes looking sad. "Mac, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't think too much more about it," Mac protested, shrugging his shoulders. "Junior is home, safe and sound, and that's what matters."

"No, I mean… I'm sorry about everything."

Mac froze, his eyes focusing on Bloo's. He realized that in Bloo's eyes, there was a wounded, somber attitude swimming in those dark pupils.

"I'm sorry about what I said back then and that I did nothing to fix it. I'm sorry that I'm selfish, and that I left you on your own for so long." He sighed heavily. "I never thought I'd say it, but I am."

Mac smiled softly. He felt the wetness coming from behind his eyes, coursing through the tiny veins of his tear ducts, till it came trickling down his face. He wiped at the small glittering streams.

"Mac?" Bloo asked.

"It's nothing, I'm just… really happy," he croaked. "I never thought you would say that."

Bloo came forward and threw his arms around Mac's body. He hugged him tightly. Mac was stunned, but slowly, his hands met Bloo's back, just below his neck. He buried his face against Bloo's smooth aqua shoulder and sighed deeply.

How they had missed each other. How they had both suffered so much when they didn't have to. When the two of them pulled away, they both could easily see that somewhere, deep down in their souls, they knew that this felt incontrovertibly right.

And that's why Mac had finally surrendered.


	7. Chapter Six: Declaration

Sunlight streamed in through the chalky windows of the sullied room. Mac blinked a few times to register that where he was sleeping was not the room with Junior, Bloo, Ed and Wilt.

But apparently he was sharing this room with Bloo.

Confused, Mac swallowed back the panic resounding in his chest, and rolled onto his back. Beside him, Bloo slept soundly, snoring softly in the same intensity as he always had. Mac now suddenly felt Bloo's arms wound around his waist.

His eyes shimmered with a forlorn remembrance, as he thought back to those days not so long ago, those nights when they would end up in this position. Mac then recalled the events of last night, how in a twist of wild passion, they had ended up in the one unoccupied room of the house.

How Bloo knew where the room was or a route that had been quick enough to get to it, Mac didn't know.

Bloo stirred awake then, stretching out what few limbs that he had.

"Agh, my arm fell asleep, ow, ow, ow," Bloo grumbled, wrenching it out from underneath Mac.

Mac rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at the ungentle manner of Bloo. Bloo looked up, his eyes widening in recognition. Mac gave a sarcastic four fingered wave.

"Mac," Bloo whispered.

"Hey."

"Did we…?"

"Yeah. Think for a minute. It took me a while too."

"Holy shit." Bloo sat up abruptly. "I can't believe it."

"In a good way or bad way?"

"Good!" Bloo cried out, surprised that Mac had even said that. "Of course it's good!"

Mac smiled gently, and leaned over and kissed Bloo's forehead.

"Bloo," he whispered. "I love you. But this is exactly the reason why we can't be together."

"What?"

"Casual. If I wanted a casual relationship, then I would have gotten one." He stroked Bloo's head lovingly. "It's not your fault."

"Uh, but wait a second here—"

"—Bloo. This is who you are. If I love you—which I do—I just have to accept who you are."

"Mac!" Bloo shouted. "Last night I was being serious! Totally, like, one hundred percent serious!"

"I know you were. But how long can I expect you to keep that promise?" Mac smiled sadly. He stood up, gathering the clothes that laid on the floor.

Bloo watched as Mac dressed himself, and then the two awkwardly stared at each other.

"I'll see you at breakfast." Mac's tone was apologetic, even as he left the room.

Ignored last night.

Ignored everything.

Tossed Bloo out the window.

Like Bloo had done years ago.

Bloo realized it now. His view was so unclouded that it was just depressing that he could realize this kind of pain. It was only one tenth of what Mac must have felt when they had broken up.

"Master Blooregard!" Herriman's voice thundered out across the mess hall. "So nice of you to join us this morning for the Saturday house pancake breakfast!"

Bloo felt scrutinized by the tens of hundreds of eyes that now focused on him. He quickly searched for Mac in the crowd and cautiously headed over to him.

"You and Master Mac were both late this morning," Herriman said, his voice still loud and scolding. "Whatever was the reason—"

"Oh shut _up _Herriman!" Bloo shot back. "Mind your own business!"

And then he threw himself down in his seat on the other side of Junior's high chair. Mac swallowed nervously and continued to cut up the small pancake that Junior had.

"Daddy I want more syrup."

"Junior. If you put any more syrup on that pancake, it will drown."

Bloo laughed. "It's not like it's going to die, Mac."

Mac's shoulders visibly tensed, but Bloo winked at him, just to let him know he was giving him a hard time.

"Daddy," Junior said, munching on a bite of pancake, "Where were you last night? I had to pee."

"Did Wilt take you?"

"No."

Mac sighed, hanging his head. "So…"

"…I peed in the bed."

"Awesome."

"Really?" Junior beamed.

"No." Mac sighed again, more aggravated. He stood up and scraped the remains of his breakfast (which was half a buttered pancake) into the trash can behind them and then marched off.

Bloo could hear him mumble, "I had _one _night, _one _night, and I can't even have that without any repercussions…"

"Junior," Bloo said, addressing his son. "Come on, kid. You should know better. I mean, your dad didn't stop wetting the bed till he was seven, but you're my kid, so I hold higher standards for you."

Bloo sniffed and scrunched up his face. "And I guess Wilt didn't bathe you."

"Wilt was helping out Frankie."

"Frankie? Why?"

"The old lady went to the doctor this morning."

"Madame Foster. Oh, okay."

Bloo chowed down on his breakfast and helped Junior finish his, then picked him up and carried him up the stairs to the bathroom. He passed Mac on the way up, who had been apparently heading down the stairs to do the same thing.

"Thanks Bloo. But I think I can do it." Mac outstretched his arms to Bloo.

"Mac, it's cool. I got it."

"Daddy, I want to go with Papa," Junior protested.

Mac skillfully wrenched Junior away from Bloo, who promptly started to wail.

"Mac, what the hell?" Bloo snapped. "What are you pissed off about?"

"Don't use that kind of language around my son," Mac hissed. "I haven't spent any time with him all week. I'll do it."

Mac turned on his heel and set up the stairs, trying to soothe Junior. Bloo turned a bright, angry red.

"You're such a liar!"

Mac whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"You use Junior as an excuse for not being with me, claiming that you want what's best for him!" Bloo yelled. "But yet you're not listening to what he says! He wants _me_, Mac! Why can't you let him have me?"

Mac set down Junior and Junior scurried away. Mac crossed his arms and glared at Bloo.

"We cannot fight around him, Bloo."

"You're the one who started it!"

"Bloo, please!"

"Mac!" Bloo grabbed him and shook his shoulders. "Mac, listen to me! I know what you're doing!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes!" Bloo hissed. "You're trying to defend yourself. You don't care about Junior; you just don't want to get hurt."

"And there's something wrong with that?"

"You're denying something that could make you happy! You keep telling me that what you want is best for Junior, but what was last night, Mac?"

"It… It was…" Worry flitted in Mac's eyes. "Just a moment of weakness."

"A moment of weakness? That's a bunch of baloney! No, it's worse than baloney, it's absolute _bullshit._"

Mac swallowed hard. "I don't want to talk about this, Bloo. Nothing you say will—"

"—Mac, can I just ask you this? What would make _you _happy?"

There was a long silence. Mac stared at Bloo, appalled, and disgustingly heartbroken. But Bloo was earnest and patient. Mac turned his head, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw multiples of friends had gathered in the foyer, gazing up at them like they were some sort of freak show.

"Why did you do this?" Mac whispered, turning back to Bloo.

"Please."

"This isn't some sort of show! Why do you have to insist on carrying this on?"

"Because last night will keep happening and happening and happening and if I don't talk to you nothing will be fixed!" Bloo yelled at him.

"I don't know what'll make me happy! All I know is that you screwed me over!"

"Then you don't even love me, do you!?"

Mac smacked him across the face. A chorus of gasps rose up from the foyer.

The two were now in a deadlocked stare. Mac's eyes overflowed with tears. Bloo didn't even gaze back. The slap had been intangible.

"What happened two years ago," Bloo began hoarsely, "was the worst mistake of my life."

He turned his head back to face Mac's. "Leaving you is the worst thing that I could ever do. I love you, Mac—and Junior, too. I want one more chance."

Mac blushed violently. The tears wouldn't stop, however. He backed up, into the shadows, and turned around and ran.

Bloo stood there, watching him go. It was all that he could do. He numbly stood there, crushed. The door swung open and he could hear the distinct sound of a girl sobbing.

"Frankie, jeez, whatever the problem is—"

"It's Grandma," Frankie sobbed.

Everyone turned to look at her. Wilt stood over her, a hand on her shoulder. Frankie wiped at her eyes, but her demeanor told the obvious.

Bloo's blood ran cold.

"Grandma collapsed in the hospital," Frankie croaked. "And the doctors told me that she doesn't have very much time left."


	8. Chapter Seven: Let Love In

Mac sat in the hospital waiting room, watching as the kooky Uncle Pockets (who wasn't a current resident at Foster's, he had just been notified of the news) exited Madame Foster's room, tears falling from his eyes. Bloo was sitting next to Mac, a confused Junior sitting on his lap.

Pockets eyed Mac as he passed by.

"You're next."

Bloo and Mac stood up in unison, but Uncle Pockets shook his head.

"No, she said, just Mac," he responded, trudging away.

Mac blinked, but headed for the room without a hint of reluctance.

Madame Foster, gray and paper-thin, lay sunken in her bed, which was a sea of white. Her veins pulsed faintly beneath her skin, colored a burgundy red and a violet blue. She was only a silhouette of who she formerly was.

"Mac," she rasped.

_I don't want to see her like this. _Mac felt his voice stating this, stopping him from approaching the chair that was pulled up next to her bed.

"Mac." She insisted, her watery eyes searching for him.

Mac swallowed and came forward, and slowly sat down in his seat.

"Mac, there is something very… very important I have to… tell you," Madame Foster said, reaching out for his hand.

Mac's fingers gently settled on top of her bony ones.

"When… when you asked me those years ago… if humans and imaginary friends could be together…. I knew you were talking about Bloo." She looked at him, blinking. "I've known… for a long time… that you and Bloo had a bond that couldn't be broken.

"What I ask… Mac… You're still so young. I know that you two had a falling out, but don't give up. A long time ago… the one that I loved… I wrote him off, because of how society would view us. You came so far… and you're just giving up?"

"I'm not giving up."

"From what I've heard, it seems that you've closed yourself off." Madame Foster gazed at him sympathetically. "And you have every right to, but… If you go through life, loving him but never allowing yourself to receive that love, you will always regret it."

She smiled at him. "Look at me. It's the end of my life. And tonight I'm going to tell him. We didn't have a chance. It's my biggest regret. Don't have ignoring Bloo be yours." She squeezed his hand with what might she could muster. "And you're too young, sweetie, too smart to make these kinds of mistakes."

Mac's eyes welled with tears.

"But he hurt me, Madame Foster. And I have a son and I just don't want to be abandoned like my mother was."

"Bloo is not the type. Trust me, I know the type. My late husband, for instance," she said, rolling her eyes and hooting weakly. "Just… give it one more chance. Please. Please, I'm begging you, sonny. Don't end up like me. You have your whole young life ahead of you. But it goes fast."

"He… he did say that he loved me…"

"Of course he does. Mac, the answer is simple. Do you love him?"

"Yes. I love him." Mac closed his eyes.

"Then you have your answer."


	9. Chapter 8: Holding Hands

Madame Foster died that Friday evening, around 1:30 in the morning. Her heart, which had always raced and pounded with exhilaration her whole life, had slowly calmed itself down, till her very life had been taken away by an unknown peaceful force. Mr. Herriman had been the last to see her, just as she had wanted.

The funeral was held on a sunny day, and what had started out as a somber gathering had turned celebratory, as those closest to her had sat around that night in the kitchen. They pulled out chairs from the dining hall and set them on the cold white tile, fishing out beers from a fridge that they kept dead bolted, and sat on their chairs lazily. They told stories about her, about the past, and laughed and cried over the things that she had said to them, and their most important moments with her. They then shared what they regretted most about her passing.

Mac and Frankie both admitted that it was that their children would never know her nor remember her.

Bloo, Wilt and Eduardo said that they would have just liked to have hung out with her again for one more day.

Mr. Herriman, the most tearful of all of them, told them that he would have shown her the life that they never could have had in what time she had left. His ears and eyes drooped, sadness racked his body. He was a feeble old rabbit, and like the Madame, wouldn't have much longer—maybe a few years. But until then, he was forever without her.

The following Monday after the funeral (which was the first Sunday after her death) Madame Foster's lawyer called them downtown to his office to discuss her will. He was a shrewd looking man with a ghastly goatee, dressed in a primp suit. With a deep voice, he detailed the contents of her will.

The car was now designated to be Frankie's, as Mr. Herriman was too old to drive. Madame Foster's collectible items were given to Mr. Herriman. Anything that was found in the Madame's room that Frankie didn't want was Mr. Herriman's, of course if it was an important item (like a childhood toy) then Frankie couldn't have it anyways.

"As of her death, Madame Foster's life insurance has left behind one million dollars in addition to the 1.6 she already had from her father's toothpick company, as well as her stocks, and the Foster's estate," the lawyer stated. "She has ordered that the majority of this money, at least 75%, must be left to keeping the house in order."

"Toothpicks?" Bloo whispered. "That's how come she was so rich? Her father owned a _toothpick _company?"

Mac elbowed Bloo and gave him a warning glance, and though Bloo kept quiet, a look of disbelief was still plastered on his face. The lawyer surveyed them from underneath his thick eyebrows, cleared his throat, and then addressed them once again.

"Half of this fortune has been left to Frankie. The other half has been left to Mac."

Everyone in the room looked incredulous to this statement.

"Me?" Mac spluttered. "Me?"

"Yes. She wishes for you and Frankie, her grandchildren, to run Foster's together." The lawyer held up the paper and pointed to a little handwritten note in ink on the left margin.

Mac and Frankie exchanged looks of gratitude, both of them eying each other with happiness. They embraced quickly.

"Grandma still rocks," she said, pumping her fist as Vince gave her other hand a reassuring squeeze.

"So I guess that this arrangement is mutually agreed to?" the lawyer said.

"Of course," Mac and Frankie echoed.

They left the downtown offices that evening and headed back to the suburbs to a local restaurant.

The small Irish pub couldn't have been drearier with its gray floorboards and tacky wallpaper, but with the group gathered around a table, pounding back large glasses of beer (except for Frankie) nothing could have been better.

"So this must mean you're staying for good, doesn't it, Mac?" Bloo asked, glancing over at the man with the boyish face.

Mac smiled. "Yeah, I guess it does. But I won't quit my job at the middle school."

"Are you sure?" Frankie asked.

"Yeah," Mac said. "I mean, I just got the job so I guess I'll keep it awhile. Save up some money for Junior."

Bloo smiled broadly and downed the rest of his pint. Herriman hobbled off to go see where their food was. Frankie gave Mac a wink and headed to the restroom.

"That old lady was something," Bloo said, smiling. "Man, she was cool."

"Cooler than you?"

"Way cooler than me, Mac. And you know how I hate admitting someone is cooler than me."

"I think she was ahead of her time, too," Mac added, smiling at the memory of sweet Madame Foster's face, and all her crazy stunts. "She would have loved to have seen Junior grow up."

"Of course. She thought of you as a grandson."

Mac laughed softly. "Yeah, that's what I really loved most about her. Everyone was family to her."

He then bit his lip. "Bloo. There's something that I want to tell you." he turned to look at Bloo, his eyes glittering. "I… I want to try again with you."

"Huh?" Bloo sputtered, gazing at Mac in astonishment.

"Yeah." Mac put his hand over Bloo's, and smiled softly. "I love you. And I know, in the past, we've hurt each other… but you… even when we were apart… brought me the happiest times of my life. You gave me Junior, and I love him."

"She told you something, didn't she?"

"Yeah. And it opened my eyes, it really did," Mac murmured. "You were right Bloo. This is going to keep happening and happening… and we've got our whole lives ahead of us."

Bloo squeezed Mac's hand. The two exchanged a slow, deep kiss and stared into each other's eyes.

"We'll take it slow," Bloo responded, kissing Mac's forehead.


	10. Epilogue: A New Picture, A New Beginning

_So... this story might have come to an end a lot sooner than people might have expected. I guess that's just the way I operate. Let me start off by saying that this was one of my favorite stories to write in this series-regardless of how weird everything was. XD I guess that some people are off-put by that, and that's okay. Just as long as they understand that I'm just trying to write a good story and give the readers of this series an ending that they deserve. Honestly, when I was trying to come up with this sequel, I tried to think of so many ways to avoid this route, but when I realized how sweet the story was underneath it all, I thought it would be worth it. I hope that you guys will find it worth it too. Now I can't even imagine Mac and Bloo living a life without Junior! XD _

_Well, I should correct myself: this is not quite an ending. After all, Mac still has some loose ends that he'll have to tie up here and there... say with his mother, perhaps? But for now it's left open ended, and up to the reviewers to decide if they want to see a sequel or not. _

_ Thank you for everyone who took the time to read this crazy little story I typed up. I should also say thank you for not flaming me XD And for the future, thanks for all the reviewers. You guys all make writing these worth it!_

**Six Months Later**

"Ugh!" Mac paced about, stomping across the tiles of the foyer. He slapped his clipboard impatiently against his thigh. "Bloppypants, where's Fluffer Nutter and Jackie?"

"Here, Mac!" Jackie's deep, throaty voice called out as he slid down the railing, a disheveled Fluffer Nutter trailing behind.

"Everybody, come on!" Mac rushed another crowd of imaginary friends to the stairs. "It's almost time to take the picture! Shortest people down in front, tallest people at the back!"

Mr. Herriman hopped up and disapprovingly cleared his throat. "Master Mac, we have a certain alphabetical order that we go through every year…"

"Wilt's head is always cut off," Mac protested, shaking his head. "He looks weird. Trust me on this, Mr. Herriman. It's going to be a great picture. One she'll be proud of."

Mr. Herriman smiled briefly, and then obediently took his spot in front of the staircase. A pregnant Frankie came out of the kitchen, with Vince trailing protectively beside her. Frankie rubbed her extended stomach and gave Mac the thumbs up as she waddled to her spot beside Mr. Herriman.

"One, two, three…" Mac used his pen to count the heads. He nibbled on the cap as he finished. "That's about one hundred and fifty… I think we're missing someone…" Mac rapped the pen against the side of his head.

"Mac, I'm surprised at you!" Bloo cried out mockingly. "Forgetting your son and awesome boyfriend? Too cold!"

Bloo stood in the left hallway with Junior balanced on his hip. A mischievous grin teased across his formless lips.

Mac sighed happily. "There's what I was looking for." He took a now three year old Junior from Bloo's arms and kissed his forehead. "My champ."

Shutter, the camera imaginary friend, stood at the front of the foyer, positioned and ready to take the annual house photo. A mirror was propped up in front to catch his reflection for the photo. Mac and Bloo took their spots beside Frankie and Vince.

The countdown began. Excited voices trembling, rocking the walls and ceiling, echoing, were thrown into the air.

"One… two… three… four…"

Suddenly a pair of long limbs reached forward and grabbed Junior from Mac's hands. Junior was then crowd surfed from friend to friend, much to his delight. When he finally reached the top row, Wilt, the tallest friend helped to hold him up above the whole audience, like he was king of the world. Junior shrieked with excitement and all the friends smiled and laughed at his reaction.

"That's our boy," Bloo said, smiling proudly at Mac. "You know, I think he's going to be an awesome kid."

"He already is."

"Well, you know. Maybe he'll be as awesome as me…"

Mac gave a sarcastic eye roll and aggravated sigh—

"—or even better, as awesome as you."

Mac grinned, blushing at the simple comment. They leaned in to kiss as the countdown ended.

"…Eighteen… Nineteen…Twenty!" the room lit up with smiles, and as the flash clicked off, the memory was captured.

**The End **


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